Fluffy Mackerel
time to go!
being the reasonably knowledgeable and sensible Canadian that I am, I know that elk are some of the most dangerous creatures in the national parks. so when I shot this, I was standing behind my car, about 25 feet away. a reasonable distance, i thought, should he decide to get ornery. also, a few thousand pounds of steel and glass should provide some sense of safety, right?
did i mention that there's no real sense of perspective in this shot, and this creature is probably about 5' tall at the shoulder? or that those murder sticks on it's head are probably about 4' long and wickedly, viciously pointy? no? i should have mentioned that at the outset.
because then he did this.
he stopped grazing.
he stood stock still for a moment.
he peered deep into my soul through the barrel of my lens.
his eyes glowed red and smoke billowed from his nostrils as one hoof raised menacingly in the air, as though testing his balance before lunging at me like a meat locomotive, hellbent on demonstrating to me why leaving him alone to his grazing would be A Very Good Idea Indeed.
all of my previous (seemingly) logical thoughts vis a vis my physical proximity and sense of safety departed from my consciousness with alacrity, replaced by an overwhelming sense that being *inside* the few thousand pounds of glass and steel would be A Much Better Idea Indeed.
time to go!
being the reasonably knowledgeable and sensible Canadian that I am, I know that elk are some of the most dangerous creatures in the national parks. so when I shot this, I was standing behind my car, about 25 feet away. a reasonable distance, i thought, should he decide to get ornery. also, a few thousand pounds of steel and glass should provide some sense of safety, right?
did i mention that there's no real sense of perspective in this shot, and this creature is probably about 5' tall at the shoulder? or that those murder sticks on it's head are probably about 4' long and wickedly, viciously pointy? no? i should have mentioned that at the outset.
because then he did this.
he stopped grazing.
he stood stock still for a moment.
he peered deep into my soul through the barrel of my lens.
his eyes glowed red and smoke billowed from his nostrils as one hoof raised menacingly in the air, as though testing his balance before lunging at me like a meat locomotive, hellbent on demonstrating to me why leaving him alone to his grazing would be A Very Good Idea Indeed.
all of my previous (seemingly) logical thoughts vis a vis my physical proximity and sense of safety departed from my consciousness with alacrity, replaced by an overwhelming sense that being *inside* the few thousand pounds of glass and steel would be A Much Better Idea Indeed.